
Happy Halloween
Every year we seem to hear
that Christmas (I'm sorry to use the 'c' word in such a gratuitous
fashion, but there it is) is becoming more and more commercialised. That's
probably true, but having not been born until the 1970s it was already
pretty far gone before I was even aware of it. However, what I have
noticed during my comparatively short life (so far) is the gradual
commercialisation of Halloween.
Perhaps, after a moment's
reflection, commercialisation is the wrong word. We aren't yet at the
stage where people send each other Halloween Cards (wishing each other a
ghastly day, presumably). A better word might be 'sanitisation' (if that
actually is a word) by which I mean that Halloween has become marketed,
quantified, neatly assimilated into becoming just another 'significant'
day on the calendar. When I was little it was never anything but a reason
for us to draw witches, ghosts and pumpkins at school, and if it had any
importance at all it was that it meant Fireworks night was only five days
away. I won't allow myself to digress too much, but I will just mention in
passing that when we were little I would say the majority of people still
lit fireworks at home - I can remember us in the back garden, with the
trusty sealed tin, with my dad as MC, and I can also still remember the
incredibly compelling, even addictive, sight and smell and sound of
sparklers. Nowadays Fireworks night is by far the lesser of the two
events, with only public displays apparently keeping the tradition alive.
Only one or two local shops have just a very few fireworks on sale; but
there's hardly a shop that doesn't have a Halloween selection - whether it
be full witch or skeleton costumes, or chocolate eyeballs, they're all
getting in on the act.
So back to Halloween then.
Although I don't want to point the finger, I'll force myself, and I think
the blame lies well and truly with our American cousins. I don't think
anything akin to 'trick or treat' existed here until the last 10-15 years,
and it has arrived simply because the children of those years have been
immersed in US culture, even more than we 70s kids were, brought up on a
diet of US action shows. The insidious infection starts early too - my
daughter once told me that her uncle (my brother) lives 'just a couple of
blocks away'!
I was late leaving work
tonight, and as I drove through the dark streets of town at around 6 pm,
there were a few groups of trick or treaters already out on the prowl.
Normally perfectly sensible parents had gleefully sent their children out
into the dark wearing nothing but black (well, except for the skeletons)
and this rather reckless behaviour is just one indication of the grip that
Halloween seems to have on us now. Just as letting a child go out
virtually invisible flies in the face of all those 'be safe be seen'
campaigns, so sticking a dead tree in your sitting room in December flies
in the face of all logic - but in both cases it seems perfectly reasonable
in context. In the distance this evening I saw a pair of red horns, and
for a fleeting moment I had a vision of some poor child sent out into the
night got up as a Nimon. On closer inspection, of course, he was nothing
of the sort (I say he - I suppose there could have been a girl under
there) but was in fact Darth Maul. Ironic, perhaps, that trick & treating
didn't happen back in the 1970s, when it would have given us all a
legitimate excuse to dress up as a Doctor Who monster. Ah well...
On the rather darker side,
when I popped into the garage on the way home I noticed a sign attached to
the till warning the cashiers 'not to sell any eyes or foam to children
today' - which I guess is a move to avoid any over-enthusiastic trickers
from hurting or seriously scaring anybody. I was never a gregarious child,
except by default (my older brother being, as a youngster, even more shy
than me) so would never have been attracted to trick or treating; but
although I cannot understand it, I wouldn't say I'm bothered by the idea
of it. Where it does becomes questionable, though, is where, inevitably,
unfortunately, the lust for candy (sorry, for sweets) or just for simple
mischief, drives the kids to overdo it. Going back for a moment to the
relationship between October 31st and November 5th, the number of
accidents from the latter has probably gone down over the years. I would
guess that the reverse is true of Halloween.
Not that the 'sanitisation' of
Halloween is necessarily a bad thing, over zealous tricks aside. I'm
always amazed by the people (usually religious people) who protest
vehemently against the celebration of such an event. Its origins may be in
black magic, but in 'mainstream' terms Halloween is no more an occult
event than Christmas is a religious one - both have drifted far from their
roots to become 'just' dates. I'm quite sure that there'll be people out
there tonight sacrificing goats and generally doing their "Stones of
Blood"/"K9 & Company" routine, but for most of us Halloween is pumpkins,
witches, and (yes) trick or treat. I ought to balance out this paragraph
by pointing out that although both my parents are Methodist Ministers,
neither of them has ever gone what I will objectively label as 'wacko' and
gone out trying to ban Halloween - indeed my Mum actually has a Harry
Potter book, and isn't ashamed to admit it (although to be fair I don't
believe she's ever read it).
Mention of my Mum rather
irksomely leads me to shoot my own argument in the foot (parents, tt!) as
I believe she may have been the 'victim' of one of the earliest ever trick
or treat sightings in the UK (well, in the Curnow household anyway).
Between 1976 and 1982 we lived in Carlisle (which is, for the
geographically-challenged, the last interesting thing before Scotland) and
on one of those Halloweens a young lad came to the door. He recited the
following ditty to my Mum: "The Sky is Blue, The Grass is Green, Have you
anything for Halloween." Understandably, back in those dark ages, my Mum
had never heard of trick or treat, and asked the boy what exactly he was
looking for. Whether his nerve failed him, or whether he was in fact as
much in the dark as my Mum, I don't know, but he rather unhelpfully
replied that 'anything' would do. My Mum decamped to the kitchen,
returning after a minute or two with a can of peas. The boy took them and
went. Perhaps understandably, we were never bothered on a Halloween again.
Whether that was because my Mum had been labelled as mean or as crazy,
well I'll leave you to make up your own minds.
Before anybody thinks that I
am putting down Halloween, I'm really not, it's just that I have never
looked on it as anything more than just another day, and I find it
requires a real effort on my part to do so. My daughter, on the other
hand, is a card-carrying convert. On Monday she said to me, in the same
tone of voice you might normally reserve at the age of 6 for Father
Christmas or the Tooth Fairy, that it was Halloween week. Lacking anything
enthusiastic to say I settled for an encouraging 'yes' but this seemed in
the circumstances totally inadequate. She's been to a Halloween party
tonight - dressed as Scooby Doo - and has just come in moaning because my
wife wouldn't let her go trick or treating. I think we might save that
horror (no pun intended) for another year....
So, to sum up, what does all
this show us? Well, primarily how easily distracted I am. Having felt
incredibly guilty at the abilities of Lissa and Si (Tom Baker) Hunt to
produce works of brilliance on a daily (I'll say it again, because it is
that amazing - daily) basis, I thought I ought to try and knock something
out at least twice a month if only to justify having a banner with my name
on it. I had every intention of treating you all to my views on Scooby Doo,
but as you can see his role has been reduced to a passing costume
reference only. When November 5th comes around next Wednesday, I doubt
that my daughter is going to wake us up at six am excitedly telling us
that it's Guy Fawkes day. She'll probably save that routine for Christmas
- whether it's over-commercialised or not.
Happy Halloween!
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